


Little Songs of Ice and Fire

by longhairandbarefeet



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-17
Updated: 2016-10-10
Packaged: 2018-06-09 02:41:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 11,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6885943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/longhairandbarefeet/pseuds/longhairandbarefeet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of drabbles, vignettes, and ficlets on Jon and Sansa.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Algebra

Jon is watching her. It’s one of those rare moments where she isn’t trying to be perfect. Her hair’s wild and tangled, and pulled high in a ponytail. She is working on homework, but all he sees is her chewing the eraser absentmindedly and twirling lose strands between her fingers. He savors this, the way her eyes flicker up and look at him when she thinks he can’t feel it or the silence that falls between them because they technically aren’t friends. He isn’t sure what to call her besides Robb’s little sister. (Who he happens to think about more than anyone else.)

“Are you good at math?” Sansa asks and he wishes he could say yes, but he isn’t. He hates math.

“Nope, but if you have a paper you need help with.” Jon replies, in his head he is playing a scenario where he can exercise his intelligence and impress Sansa. “I’m an English major, remember?” He says holding up the book in his hand. Sansa rolls her eyes.

“Oh yes, I forget.” Sansa says. “That means once you become an English major, you forget what numbers are, silly me.” Jon has to admit she has a mean bite, and he hates himself for loving the marks they leave.

“What is it you need help with Sansa?” He says and she looks at him with an accomplished smile. She picks her textbook up and proceeds to sit right beside him on the couch. When she sits he feels her bare leg press against his. She is wearing a pair of little boxer shorts with pink teacups on them and he blushes because he has a short story he wrote where he rips them off of her and she moans at the force.

“Derivatives.” She says laying the textbook in his lap and leaning over him. She points out the different equations and formulas, but all Jon is aware of is how she smells like flowers and candy. He wants to eat her up. “Jon?”

“Yeah?” He says looking over at her.

“Are you even listening to me?” Sansa states sourly. Her mouth breathing out warm frustrated air that Jon attempts to breath in. “I know we aren’t talking about Keats or freaking Fitzgerald, but this is just as important!”

“I disagree.” He snaps quickly. He lays the textbook on the end table and stands up. He needs a cigarette from all the close contact with her.

“Don’t walk away from me,” Sansa follows him outside and stare at him with furrowed brows, but she starts to shiver immediately. Jon looks at her sadly and silently damns her stubbornness. It is mid winter in Michigan and she is still wearing those stupid shorts like they live in Florida.

“You are going to freeze.” He says lighting his cigarette and shoving his lighter in his pocket.

“I think I will live.” Sansa crosses her arms and stands on the porch. He knows there is a story or poem from this image. Sansa standing barefoot in the middle of a snowy Michigan day and arguing with him, someone who technically means next to nothing to her. 

“You are going to get sick.” Jon says taking his jacket off and wrapping it around her bare shoulders. She pulls the jacket around her and looks into his eyes. “I couldn’t stand seeing you sick.”

“Don’t be nice to me,” She scoffs loudly. “That isn’t our repartee. I am bitch and you judge me for being a bitch. It works for us. Don’t be nice because it could change things.”

Jon doesn’t say anything. He watches her slide the jacket off and hand it back to him. Sansa walks back inside without another word. He finishes his cigarette and proceeds to light a second one after to think and nicotine helps him concentrate. What the hell did she mean?


	2. Sneaking Around

It is just about sex. That is what Sansa keeps telling herself when Jon begins to nip at her ear. He bites her lobe and she moans softly. They don’t have much time before her family begin to notice they are both missing. They barricade themselves in the guest room and are swift to remove each others clothes. 

“I’ve missed you.” Jon says unclasping her bra and rubbing his thumb over her hard nipple. She lifts her neck and shudders. He is so good with his hands, she thinks.

“Shut up.” Sansa cuts him off with a hastened kiss. She yanks his boxers down quickly and slides herself on the bed. She hates to admit she missed his cock more than him. 

He pulls her panties down and positions himself over her, but not before pulling her face in for a kiss. He runs his tongue lazily over her top lip and she bites at his bottom. He enters her in a quick thrust and she gasps in surprise at his forcefulness. He was usually so gentle with her. 

“You feel so good.” He whispers in her ear and she smiles in response. He proceeds to trail kisses down her neck and over her breast. She hums in response and relishes the idea of his beard leaving marks on her unblemished skin. 

“Not so bad yourself darling.” She says with her orgasm fast approaching and she is grateful because she can see in his face that he is about to come too.

“Come for me,” he says and she can’t deny him the pleasure. She comes first and he follows shortly after. 

He is sweaty and hovering over her, his curls softly stuck to his neck. After sex is when Sansa finds Jon the sexiest. She twirls his dark hair on her finger and smiles up at him.

“You’re so beautiful.” he says. She rolls her eyes and reaches for her clothes.

“And you’re sweaty.”


	3. Breakfast at Tiffanys AU

Jon doesn’t quite know what to think of his new neighbor. She is beautiful, of course, really beautiful, but she also doesn’t understand boundaries. Sansa has seen him naked several times because she bursts through doors without knocking. She always sashays through the closed bathroom door and throws a towel at him.

“For God’s sake Bran, can’t you cover yourself up. I am a lady, you know?” Sansa says leaning against the lip of the sink and pretends to admire her nail polish. Jon wraps the towel around him and wipes the water that has dripped into his eyes. His name isn’t Bran, but she calls him that because Jon reminds her of her younger brother she hasn’t seen in years. Jon never thought to tell her it makes him uncomfortable to be a reminder of her sibling, but he still doesn’t say anything. 

“I didn’t know.” Jon says playfully and she opens her mouth with a smile. Sansa is one to use fake smiles in her day to day life, but this one seems genuine to him. 

“Oh Jon Snow, you know how to wound a lady.” Sansa clicks her tongue. Jon does know some things about his new neighbor. She is beautiful, of course, really beautiful, and, somehow, she already has him wrapped tightly and uncomfortably around her perfectly manicured fingers.


	4. Swimming Pool

Jon loves the way Sansa looks in her bathing suit. He thinks it has to do with how beautiful she looks in the summer. She leaves her red hair flowing down and spread across her sun kissed shoulders and her freckles are her only source of cover up. Summer suits her.

He watches her sitting by the pool. Her left hand clutching some worn Austen novel that she has probably read a thousand times, and her other hand shielding the sun from her eyes. He sits on the other side of the pool with his shirt slung around his neck and beads of sweat rolling down his face.

Sansa lays her book down and sits up. She looks bored and he wishes he could fix it, but she always tells him how boring he is. He hopes she is joking when she tells him that. Sansa looks over to him and gives him a smile. He feels it warm him and he is nervous he may get a heat stroke. She begins to wave him over, but he shakes his head and makes a gesture for her to come to him. She rolls her eyes, but still does it.

“Favor.” She says it like a statement instead of a question. He looks at her pouty lip and she is standing over him. Her body shimmering with the outline of the sun and he thinks she could be some sort of angel

“Yes, Sansa.” He licks his bottom lip and let’s his eyes rake over her body. “Need me to put lotion on you?” He feels himself say and she raises an eyebrow at his brashness.

“Could you?” She challenges him and reaches to grab the bottle. “My shoulders are getting a little pink.” Sansa counters and pulls her hair to the side to expose her bare back. Jon swallows hard. Fuck me, he thinks. His finger lightly tracing the small sparrow tattoo on her left shoulder blade.

“How does it feel?” He rubs the sunscreen in gently, trying not to let his rough hands sully her perfect skin. He sees her begin to get goosebumps and he can’t help but notice the affect he is having on her.

“Amazing..” She says turning around to look at him. “You are pretty great with your hands.” They are alone by the pool and for that Jon is grateful. He has a moment to appreciate her beauty up close. A moment to just appreciate her up close.

“Oh you have no clue.” He says raising an eyebrow and scooping her up like she is some sort of damsel in distress. “I think it may be time for a swim.”

Sansa’s eyes widen in shock and she begins to twist and fight his grip.

“I will knock you on your ass if you even think about it Jon Snow!” He chuckles at her ferocity and runs quickly into the pool. He takes an unhappy Sansa with him.

He feels her clutch tightly to him under the water. She presses her face to his and somehow he thinks she didn’t mean what she said.

“You are so dead.” She says when they emerge, and he can’t help but think she looks cute when she is angry.

“You don’t mean it.” He says holding her close to him.

“Oh. You have no clue what I am capable of.” Sansa smiles sweetly, and swims away. Jon watches her do so with a stupid grin. He can’t help but think that if he were to die today that dying at the hands of Sansa may not be so bad.


	5. Arranged Marriage

She always sits quietly at dinner. They had been married for nearly two moons and he wishes she would just say something. Sansa never spoke to him much when they were children, she was courteous when she had to be and never rude, but there was no love there. There wasn’t much love now. He could have tried harder to court her before, but he was sour from the betrothal that he didn’t much care for her feelings. It wasn’t until they said their vows in the godswood that he truly saw her. He saw the woman she had become, not the little girl she had been before. Loving Sansa wasn’t something that happened over time for Jon, it happened in a single second. When he said his vows that day he truly meant every single word, and hoped she could see it.

Their first night together was perfunctory. He tried to make it as pleasant as possible for her, but every warm touch was met with a cold reply.

Two moons later, and it hasn’t gotten much better. He can feel her cool facade fading slowly, but it isn’t until four moons when she truly begins to try.

He knows she has begun to care for him. Jon can feel it in the way she looks at him when they are being intimate. The way she clutches at his shoulders as if he was going to disappear before her eyes. Or the way she watches him do menial day to day tasks. He can feel the ice within her melting.

“Sansa.” He says from the bed while she sits at her vanity brushing her hair. “Come here.”

“Of course,” she says curtly and walks over to the bed and sits on her side.

“Forgive me for speaking so boldly,” he breathes out in frustration. All his words that he had so carefully practiced were now lost on him. “I just, I love you.”

Sansa looks at him, no emotion on her face, but her eyes give her away. They always do.

“Stop running from this. I know I’m not the only one who feels it.” Jon says smiling. “Say you love me.”

Sansa waits a few moments, but leans over and places a warm and promising kiss on Jon’s lips.

“In time.” That’s all Sansa says and he nods. They make love that night and for the first time Jon feels Sansa. He feels her hands clasp his own. He feels her body move in perfect rhythm with his and most of all, when he lays his head on her bare chest after he can hear her heartbeat. The beats are soft and they sound a lot like ‘I love you too.’


	6. Don't Get Married

Sansa knocks expectantly at the door. She waits for Jon to open it, and while waiting she straightens out the wrinkles in her cocktail dress. She is suddenly aware of what she is doing and almost walks away. Then the door opens.

“Sansa,” he says laughing and pulling her in. Jon was wearing his black tux and his curls were cut short and slicked back. Sansa missed the way his hair used to look before he started dating Ygritte. The way it looked when Sansa used to run her fingers through his wild curls when they were sitting in the front seat of his old black Chevy. His lips on her neck and hands on her waist. He used to whisper: “I love you. I want you.” She wouldn’t say anything back and maybe that is why he was getting married to someone else.

“You look very handsome.” Sansa says watching him close the door behind him. He gives her a nervous smile and pulls at the bow tie.

“I look like an idiot.” Jon says. Sansa laughs quietly. She knows he hates wearing anything that isn’t flannel. Sansa used to love laying in bed in his favorite red plaid one. He would look at her like she was his favorite to.

“I could always give you your shirt back. It suits you much better.” She couldn’t give up the shirt that still smells like him. Sansa runs her fingers down the length of the jacket flaps and he reaches for her hands.

“What are you doing here, Sansa?” Jon says reaching to lift her chin so their eyes can meet. Sansa stays rooted. She wishes they were back in that Chevy again.

“I, I mean, I just…” She stutters out and Jon looks surprised. He knows she prizes herself on her eloquence. “Jon, I am so sorry I never said it.” Sansa says and he looks at her with a frown on his soft lips. They never technically dated, but what they had was real and Sansa ruined it.

“That was a long time ago Sansa.” Jon shakes her hands off of him and moves away from her. She knows he is still hurting too. “I’ve moved on and so have you. We never made sense.”

“I love you, Jon.” Sansa says walking towards him and placing her small hands on the side of his too smooth face. His beard used to scratch her and she missed the subtle pain. “I’m completely and utterly in love with you.”

He reaches for her and pulls her to him. Jon gives her a smile and runs his thumb over her lips. He replaces his thumb with his lips and she moans softly in response. They hadn’t kissed in two years and it felt like making up for lost time. She licks his bottom lip and he responds with a groan, the same way he used to. She misses how sweet he tastes.

“Oh God, Sansa.” He says pulling away slowly and keeping his forehead pressed to hers. “I love you so much.” She smiles.

“Then please don’t get married.”


	7. Ticklish

They have been dating for a few weeks. It is something they both couldn’t quite believe. Sansa is sitting on the couch with her legs spread across Jon’s lap and he is rubbing them while watching football. She immerses herself in Vanity Fair and some article about kids in Indonesia when Jon’s fingers barely graze the pads of her feet and she kicks his arm away.

“Don’t you dare.” She says bitingly and he raises a brow. They were still learning things about one another. She just recently learned he is allergic to green peppers. (That was an unfortunate trip to the emergency room.)

“Is Sansa Stark ticklish?” Jon says grabbing her leg and keeping it still while he continues to find spots on her feet that make her laugh uncontrollably. “Oh, you have such a cute laugh.”

“Ugh. I hate you.” She says fighting him off and moving away from him, pretending to be mad.

“Should I see if your feet aren’t the only ticklish part of you.” Jon says moving closer to her, suggestive. She rolls her eyes at him when he tries to be sexy, but she also rolls her eyes at herself for finding it so. He grabs her gently and puts her on his lap as if she weighs nothing. She wraps her arms around his neck.

“If you tickle me again, I may or may not forget your allergy to peppers.” She jokes. He looks at her and arches his brow.

“Empty threats, my love.” He says holding her face and placing a kiss on the apple of her cheek.

“Wanna find out?” She says moving to kiss him and she bites his bottom lip and pulls at it. He growls at her and brings her closer to him. Yes, they are learning new things about each other and Sansa finds she likes what she is learning.


	8. Marry Me

The whole evening was a nightmare, but Jon had planned for it to be perfect. They were going to go to dinner, and then go for a walk by the water; it was going to be romantic. Instead, the reservations that he had made a month before were somehow lost, and they ended up eating at some old greasy diner at the pier. It was Saturday night, and every place they try to go after was booked solid all night.

Sansa sat in her purple tea length dress with the short sleeves and her hair curled and placed in a bun, high heels clinking against the metal table legs. She had taken hours to get ready, but instead of sitting at a table with three forks, she was sitting at a restaurant with plastic ware. He didn’t expect this at all.

“Should I order Frankie’s famous fish sandwich or Charlie’s chili cheeseburger?” Sansa said looking over at Jon from her paper menu, a childish smile on her face while doing so.

“Are you mocking the food here?” Jon said, pretending he was offended by the locale. “It took me weeks to get a reservation here. You are lucky you’re boyfriend is so debonair and handsome.”

“First, I am not mocking…simply admiring the use of alliteration.” Sansa affirms with a smile and continued. “You are handsome. I will give you that, but debonair is pushing it, don’t you think? 

“How do you think I got you sweetling?” Jon said and he knew it was a lie. He was stupid shy when he was younger and even worse when he met Sansa.

“Lots and lots of alcohol.” Sansa joked taking a sip from her Diet Coke. He remembered the night he finally plucked up the courage to ask her out. It was her birthday party and she was sitting on the swing in her front yard. He walked over to her holding a small box and a nervous smile. He left the party with a lot more than he came with. It was a promise to see her the next day and a chaste kiss on the cheek to seal it.

“If you say so.” Jon said waving for the waiter to come over. He watched her order. She was pointing at different things in the menu, ordering something she won’t touch because she thinks she is hungrier than she is. Jon knows they will take most of this home and eat it in the bed and watch old television reruns. She will feed him cold fries and he will give her sips of his glass of water from the nightstand. He knows that he can’t wait to take her out of the dress and kiss every inch that was hidden beneath it, or take the pins holding her hair up and run his fingers through it to get the tangles out. He kept thinking about how that was all he ever really wanted to do.

“Marry me.” He said. Jon felt the words escape his mouth before he could process what he had said.

“Ugh, what?” Sansa asked looking from the waiter to Jon, and back again. The waiter stood docile, staring at Jon.

“I’ll give you two a minute.” The waiter said leaving as fast as he could, Jon couldn’t blame him. This wasn’t the plan. He had planned romance, but somehow this was where it ended up. 

“Jon, did you just ask me to marry you?” Sansa asked. He couldn’t read her expression, but it seemed she wasn’t ecstatic at the prospect of marrying him.

“This wasn’t the way I planned it.” Jon said under his breath. He stood from his seat and pulled the velvet box from his pocket, he got down on one knee. “So I need to give you that big fancy speech like in the movies, right?”

Sansa muffled a laugh and nodded.

“I love you Sansa. I love everything about you. I love how smart you are, and beautiful. I love the way you dress up and how cute you look in those dresses. I love you in those cute little pajamas too. I love it when you wear those old shirts of mine with my boxers and we sit in the bed and talk until we fall asleep. I thought tonight was suppose to be about a perfect dinner and the perfect speech, but sweetheart, we aren’t perfect.” Jon said grabbing her hand and pressing a kiss to it. “Marry me, Sansa.”

Sansa stared at him for a moment before giving an enthusiastic nod. He pulled the ring from the box and put it on her finger with a watery smile.

“What do you say we get the food to go?” Sansa held his face in her hands and kissed him fervently. “I want to celebrate.”


	9. Dog Wedding

This is a joke. Sansa thought, sitting in a fold out chair in her yard. The swell of the wedding processional was playing. Oh my God, this isn’t a joke. 

Sansa turned and saw her brother Robb walking Grey, his Golden Retriever, who was the bride down the aisle. Robb acted so nonchalant and proceeded with the ordeal, but Sansa thought this was some practical joke to see how long she would actually take the situation serious.

She looked over at Jon, the only other guest in attendance. He was raising his brow at the groom, an Alaskan Husky named Wally and his owner, Roslin.

Sansa watched the dogs stand at the front, and watched them exchange vows and declare their love for one another, which were in reality Roslin and Robb reading from a piece of paper. There were a lot of weird dog puns and innuendos and Sansa wished she could have laughed louder than the ones she had to muffle.

It was over fast and Sansa watched Robb and Roslin run down the aisle with the dogs, smiles on their faces while Sansa and Jon sat in the seats. Sansa finally unleashed a roaring laugh after they had gone, and Jon joined in.

“What the hell was that?” He asked her and it only made her laugh louder, making her sides sore and her eyes water.

“Oh my God, Jon. This was a joke right? You guys were all trying to play a joke on me?” Sansa said wiping the tears from her eyes and in between shallow breathes because she had lost all senses after witnessing today. 

“If it were a joke, I wasn’t apart of said joke.” Jon said shaking his head with a shy smile on his face. “I guess Roslin is a little batty after all.”

“I would say it is an understatement.” Sansa replied standing from her chair and stretching. The Frey’s were all a little strange, and Roslin seemed the most put together. That fact was now being called to question after attending the silliest thing Sansa had ever been too. “Did you hear the vows, oh my God, my life has been so ruff without you in it.”

“Oh, Sansa, don’t stop retrieving in me.” Jon said grabbing her arm before she made her way back to the house. Sansa chuckled.

“Thank you for being here. I am glad I am not the only one who attended this.” Sansa said sweetly. Jon was Robb’s best friend and while Sansa knew him, she didn’t know a whole lot about him.

“How could I have missed this?” Jon said with a toothy grin. Sansa had never seen him smile so big and she mirrored it with one of her own.

“What do you say we celebrate the nuptials with a little reception of our own?” Sansa said lifting her brow. She wouldn’t mind talking to him for a little while longer and she was hungry from laughing so much.

“To Wally and Grey.” Jon said standing from the chair and following Sansa inside. 

“God, Robb must really like that girl, huh?” Sansa asked as she slid her patio door open. 

“I give it two weeks. A marriage like that can only end in divorce.” Jon said and Sansa giggled in response. She didn’t realize that Jon Snow had such a good sense of humor.


	10. Bartender, Bartender

Sansa always heard the term, always a bridesmaid, never a bride. She had heard it since the first wedding she was in, and now it was her fourth time being a bridesmaid. It was one of the longest running jokes among her friends and family. Sansa felt it was a curse, an omen, because she had been engaged twice and neither panned out quite right. Joffrey cheated on her with her friend Margaery, and Renly cheated with Margaery’s brother, Loras. It was definitely an omen.

She heard it all throughout the weekend, that by the time the wedding came she was numb from all the mimosas she had while getting ready for the ceremony.

When she approached the bar, knocking gently on the counter, waiting for someone to help her pour more drinks.

“Barkeep!” She shouted over the music and tapped her shoe against the linoleum floor. She felt the champagne wearing off and needed something stronger.

“Did you just call me barkeep?” A man with dark curly hair appeared from thin air, like some sort of magician and Sansa wished she hadn’t of called him that. He was young, maybe a couple years older than her, and he wore a smirk on his lips as he eyed her up and down.

“I’m sorry. I just need a drink.” Sansa said suddenly self-conscious. She knew that the bridesmaid dresses were hideous, olive green floor length dresses with red bows on the butt. It was like Jeyne was punishing them for something, but did this guy have to stare.

“Are you here for the bride or groom?” He asked pulling bottles from the counter and mixing her something. She thought he was much cuter when he didn’t talk.

“Neither.” Sansa paused. “Not friends with either anymore. Do you see these dresses? I look like something you would put on a Greek Salad.” Sansa said with sorrow in her tone. He handed her the drink. “What’s in this?” She asked hesitantly, smelling the contents.

“Just try it!” He said pushing it towards her. “and aren’t weddings suppose to be magical, why are you so on edge?” He asked flashing a smile and she, not thinking, returned it. “See, a smile. I knew you had one in you.”

“Who are you?” Sansa asked taking a sip of the drink and taking another right after. He was nuisance, but he made a good cocktail.

“Jon.” He said wiping his hands on his shirt and holding it out for her to take. “And you?”

“Sansa.” She replied with a smile, and suddenly the night didn’t seem so bad anymore.


	11. Fake Marry Me

“Will you fake marry me?” Sansa said with pouted lips and eyes as big as a Disney princess. Jon pressed his face into his hands because he knew he was going to say yes, and by saying yes it would be a monumental mistake.

“Sansa, why can’t you go bother some other poor soul about this? Why me?” Jon asked pulling the glass of beer from the coaster and taking a sip. She invited him out to the bar for a beer, which he already found suspicious, and then offered to pay. He knew she had a favor.

“Because I trust you,” Sansa said smiling genuinely, her hair tucked behind her ear and her teeth biting her bottom lip down. Jon tried to focus on something else besides how adorable she could be, the condensation from her drink or the way the bar lights flickered above the empty dance floor. “and you were the first picture to pop up on my phone when I showed him.”

“Why was my photo first?” Jon said curious. He knew they talked here and there or sent funny pictures, but he can’t remember the last picture he was in that he sent her.

“Not important Jon. I just need to know if you will come with me to the party. It’s one night of your life to pretend we are engaged so my ex boyfriend will realize what he is missing because let’s face it, I am pretty, funny, smart and he is missing a lot.” Sansa said and Jon could hear her getting shrill. He knew she was tense about her breakup with Joffrey, and even more so when she saw he was dating again soon after.

“Why was my photo first?” Jon asked again. He really wanted to know.

“Is that all you care about.” Sansa said with a roll of her eyes.

“Tell me why and I just might say yes.” He said teasingly, raising his left brow and anxious to hear her say why.

“Because that photo of us and Ghost at my apartment is my background.” Sansa said quickly and Jon felt his cheeks burn red. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting her to say, but it wasn’t that.

“Oh.”

“It’s, it’s so stupid. You just look so happy in the picture and you know how much I love Ghost and–” Sansa began to explain, but Jon lifted his finger to stop her.

“I will do it.” Jon said reaching his hand to hers and squeezing it softly.

“Thank you.” Sansa said breathing out, a sigh escaping her.

“Well since we are engaged now,” Jon said looking at her, plucking the kind of courage she had to ask this of him. “Can I buy you dinner?”

“Yes.” She paused. “I’m a lucky girl, you know?” Sansa said grabbing the menu from behind the salt and pepper shakers. “Not every girl has a fiancé like you.”

Jon waited a moment and said: “I’m the lucky one.”


	12. Speak Now

Sansa always prided herself on her manners, and her impeccable ability to always do the right thing. She never stole cookies from the jar as child or cheated on tests at school to get better grades. She was always the proper girl. How did she end up here?

She was standing in a sea of 300 guests who were all staring at her, waiting for her to say something, but suddenly she was lost, the romantic tirade she had thought up in the car on the way over was gone. Sansa closed her eyes and breathed, remembering why this was what she wanted.

She thought of his eyes, the dark grey color that she would stare into when they laid in the bed together, she would convince him to call in sick at work and they would spend the whole day in the bedroom. He would make her coffee and feed her toast with strawberry jam, leaving a trail of crumbs on the sheets. It had left them laughing all day as they scooted them off every time they readjusted their position. They would watch old movies, and debate things, debate life, art, religion, everything. They would make love under covers after a debate got too heated and she couldn’t stand to lose a debate, so they agreed fucking was the next best thing to being right.

Sansa opened her eyes and they fell upon Jon, the whole reason she was here. He looked confused, and relieved, but Sansa didn’t know him like she used to so she could have been wrong. She reached at the bodice of her dress, pulling and moving it to try and let herself breathe better, but it wasn’t budging.

“I’m sorry,” Sansa began; it was the easiest way to begin a trainwreck. “I am sorry because you are marrying the wrong girl.” Sansa finished the sentence and gasps were heard from every part of the church, and Sansa knew she was probably going to hell now. A good girl wouldn’t interrupt something like this.

She waited for only a moment, watching Jon look at Ygritte and back to her, Sansa knew this was rejection. The slight movement of his head, and the way he kept himself planted in place, no slight way to her. This was it. Goodbye.

Sansa looked around the room, everyone still staring at her. She pushed herself out of the pew and walked speedily to the exit, holding in the tears that were threatening to spill.

Once she reached the parking lot, and was finally able to see her car, everything fell apart. She broke like the porcelain doll she broke as a child.

When she found her car in a haze of tears, she heard a voice from behind her, calling her name. It was quiet, but unmistakable. She turned and saw his eyes, and she was drowning in the dark grey orbs again. He gave her a small smile, while reaching for her hand.

She was so happy she didn’t do the right thing.


	13. Waking Up In Vegas

Jon awoke to the sight of natural light peaking in through the hotel window; the sight made him nauseous and gave him the dreaded hangover headache. He sat up slowly, trying to alleviate the room spinning, and when he tried to grab something on the bed for leverage, he realized he wasn’t alone. He turned as swift as he could to see a girl’s bare back, and auburn flowing down over it. Jon knew the only person it could be was Sansa Stark, his best friend’s little sister and Jon felt the urge to throw up.

While his mind tried to rack information from the previous night, why she was naked and here in his bed, he felt the bed rustle and Sansa shoot up from the bed with haste.

“Jon, what am I doing here?” Sansa asked. He watched her wipe traces of smeared make up from under her eyes and keep the sheet pressed to her chest. If he remembered what they did, he probably would remember seeing her breast, but with blurred memories he couldn’t help but feel flustered at the sight of her in his bed naked.

“I, um, Sansa, I can still,” Jon said pointing to her chest. Some of the sheet had dropped and part of her breast was exposed. Sansa chuckled at him.

“You are joking right?” Sansa said letting the full sheet drop, and giving him a full view of her torso. “Jon we are naked in bed together, chances are we have done a lot more than look at each other.”

Jon ran his fingers through his hair while Sansa pushed the sheet back up, and he tried to focus.

“What is the last thing you remember?” Jon asked her. She rubbed her forehead and smiled.

“Us making, passionate, sweet love.” Sansa said and Jon felt a knot form in his stomach. Sansa could sense he didn’t like the joke. “God, Jon, if we can’t laugh about this.”

“Last night is like a dream, everything runs together for me.” He said ignoring her. “I remember going to dinner with Robb, Theon, Jeyne, and you at the Bellagio to celebrate.” They were all in Las Vegas to celebrate Robb and Jeyne’s engagement. Jon was the best man, Sansa the Maid of Honor, and Theon was the groomsman with all the money to afford the trip there. 

“Yeah…I remember that too. I also remember Robb and Jeyne turned in early and we went out with Theon.” Sansa said scrunching her eyes. “Why would we do that to ourselves.”

“Glutton for punishment I guess.” Jon said. “Maybe he will know what happened.”

They both got up and got dressed; Jon was slipping on a clean white shirt when he heard a scream from the bathroom.

“Jon!” Sansa said running from it and holding her hand up. “Do you remember what this is?” A flashy ring sat on her finger and Jon shrugged.

“Costume jewelry.” Jon said and Sansa hit him, making sure to let the ring leave a mark. “I don’t know.”

“Let me refresh your memory. Tequila and Elvis.” Sansa said waiting, saying those key words, Jon remembered.

“Oh my God, we are married.” Jon said sitting on the bed. Everything came back to him. They went out with Theon, but eventually he went off with some girl and left Jon and Sansa to their own devices. They found a seedy bar with two dollars shots, and drank tequila until Sansa suggested a night of dares. The first few were harmless, flash someone, kiss someone, or hit on someone so overtly it made the person uncomfortable. It wasn’t until around 4am when Jon got a tacky ring from some showgirl on the strip that he had the idea to dare her to marry him. They both agreed it was Elvis or nobody.

Sansa wore the blue cocktail dress she was wearing at dinner with an ugly veil and fake flowers in her hand. Jon remembered the image of her walking toward him. It was a nice memory to have amongst a sea of weird ones. He also remembered carrying her to his room, holding her until they reached the bed and purposefully peeling each other’s clothes off of one another. Just thinking about it, made him feel excited, and that made him feel guilty.

“What do we do Jon?” Sansa had asked sounding horrified. Jon didn’t understand why he felt worse before he knew what happened, but it was true.

“I don’t know.”

“We can’t tell anyone. Robb would kill you, and Theon would want to know all the gory details of it.” Sansa said straining her voice. 

“We can figure it out later, lets just keep this between us right now.” Jon said approaching her. He remembered the feel of her skin and wanted to touch the soft spots again.

“What are you doing?” Sansa asked as Jon reached to run his finger along the apple of her cheek. “Jon, we can’t. Robb would kill you and Theon–” Sansa began, but Jon shushed her.

“If you remember last night, the way I remember it, you would be trying to touch me too.” Jon said smiling and Sansa licked her lips with a smile.

“Yeah. I remember it the same way too, but we can’t.”

“You’re my wife, and I am your husband. We can take all the liberties we want to.” Jon pulled her in for a kiss and she wrapped her arms around him in response.


	14. Single at 30

It was when they were in high school and sitting on a park bench, luke warm beer in hands as they talked about graduating. Sansa had big plans for herself; she was accepted at Brown, her first choice and was leaving in less than a week. She looked over at Jon, his scruffy cheeks and sad eyes. He didn’t have anything planned; his idea of college was a few classes at the community college so he could learn how to manage his dad’s tire shop. This was going to be the first time they were going to be apart, and it scared them both.

“What if you start dating some guy that rows, and is in a fraternity.” Jon said chuckling.

“Then my plan was a success.” Sansa said sipping the beer and grimacing. “Ugh. Jon…couldn’t you have at least got us colder beer?”

“It was colder, but someone needed to take extra time getting ready to go somewhere where no one will even see you.” Jon said making motions to the deserted park. It was almost midnight, and she could see he had a point.

“You see me.” She said, and he looked at her surprised.

“So back to this frat guy…”

“This fictitious guy, you mean to say.” Sansa responded.

“One and the same.” Jon said laughing.

Eventually the conversation takes interesting turns before landing on the idea of her marrying this blonde frat boy that Jon has imagined in his head, a guy that still wears trucker hats ironically and two Ralph Lauren polos at once.

“Promise me if you date someone like that, you won’t marry him. I can’t stand the idea of you marrying this Todd guy.” Jon said pulling out his keys with the bottle opener on it, drinking his fifth one.

“Oh, you’ve named this made up guy?” Sansa said laughing hysterically. It wasn’t that funny, but she was a lightweight and three beers deep she was slurring.

“Yes I have. His name is Todd Reginald Kensington the third.” Jon continued. “He also drives a five series BMW,”

“Stop this.” Sansa hit his arm.

“Will you make a pact with me?” Jon asked, letting the laughter drift off into the thick summer air.

“Always.”

“If that marriage doesn’t work, will you give me a shot?” Sansa could tell he was feeling bolder than usual. His eyes were glassy, but still beautiful as they stared into hers.

“Sure.” Sansa said.

“I’m serious.”

Sansa could see that he was, could see the way he was peeling the wrapping off the Heineken label from the bottle. His nails were scraping at it, allowing the glue from underneath to get into his fingernails.

“Well then let us make a proper marriage pact then.” Sansa said nodding. This was generally what people did when they were drunk, right? “If we turn thirty, and are still single. We will meet here on this park bench on the eve of my thirtieth, and get married. Deal?”

She stuck her hand out to him and he took it, and instead of shaking it, he gripped it and they sat their for a while, holding hands.

\+ 

They lose touch after a few years. She got wrapped up with school and new friends, forgetting Jon and the silly drunken pact. She gets married at the age of 27 to a guy named Joff; a name not to far off from the one Jon had created that night. He was such a charmer, even into their first year of marriage, but soon he got mean, distant, and started cheating on her. She was divorced before the age of 29.

She learns through old high school friends that Jon got married happily to a girl named Ygritte. She worked in the garage for him, and got pregnant soon after they tied the knot. Sansa also learned that Ygritte died in a car accident three weeks after their son was born.

Sansa tried several times to talk to Jon, but somehow she couldn’t find the right words and every email she started ended up becoming just a blank white screen that she would stare at for an hour.

+

On the eve of her thirtieth birthday, Sansa found herself in her hometown on the lonely park bench with a six-pack of Heineken. She waited patiently for Jon to show up, hoping he still remembered the deal. She didn’t have any expectations on keeping the marriage pact, but she did want to be his friend again. When she left for Brown she lost a huge part of herself and she was hoping Jon could potentially help her find those missing parts. Sansa also thought she could help Jon, help him whatever way he needed her.

“Sansa?” Jon asked walking towards her. A slack jawed surprise smile was on his face. Sansa saw how he had aged, his facial hair was more filled in and his eyes weren’t as youthful as before.

“Did you think I forgot?” Sansa said pulling a bottle out and handing it to him.

“No, I just thought you were already married.”

“I was.” Sansa said taking a swig. “It didn’t really work out.”

“That’s a shame.” Jon said moving towards her and sitting on the bench. It felt like they went back twelve years.

“Not really, he was an asshole.” Sansa said chuckling, and Jon nodded. She cleared her throat, about to broach the sensitive subject she had been trying so hard to talk to him about before this night. “I was sorry to hear about—”

“Don’t, we have plenty of time to catch up and tonight’s about the pact.” He said looking over at her.

“What about it?” Sansa said. “You still want to get married?”

“I’ve always wanted to marry you.” He said blatantly, his expression unchanged. “I would have married you at seventeen if I could have.”

“What?” Sansa felt everything in her head hurt; the information wasn’t making sense anymore. Why didn’t he tell her?

“When you left for Brown, I knew it would be better for you to find someone else, someone better.” Jon said. Sansa listened to him continue. “I loved Ygritte, and I always will, but I want to be happy again. I want you.” 

“What about your son?” Sansa asked.

“If I love you, Sam will love you.”

“I’m not the same person Jon. I am not the naïve girl with hopes and dreams. You may not like who I have become.”

“You are Sansa Stark.” Jon reached over to loop her hair around his pointer finger. “Everyone changes, I have definitely changed a lot, but I still make lame jokes, just like I am sure you will laugh at them to appease me. I don’t need for you to think you are some fictional thing in my head, you aren’t. You and Sam are the only real things in my mind Sansa.”

Sansa thought about it. She was lonely, really lonely. She ate most of her meals alone and slept most of her nights alone too. She didn’t just want anyone though; she wanted what Jon wanted too.

“Marry me.” Sansa said, no hesitating with a smile. She needed something she spent twelve years chasing, and it was right there all along.

“Anytime, anywhere.” Jon said pulling a small box from his pocket. Sansa chuckled at him. He had high hopes for tonight.


	15. Don't Answer It!

Sansa wakes up to the sound of the Jaws theme song, and she inwardly groans at the hypocrisy of it all. She reaches over his sleeping body to see who it is. Sansa sees Arya’s name flash on the phone with a ludicrous photo of her at what appears to be a baseball game. Jon stirs at the sound, and mindlessly reaches for it. Sansa slaps his hand.

“Don’t answer it!” Sansa says and Jon laughs.

“I wasn’t planning on it.” He responds rolling to face her. Jon rubs at his eyes and opens them to her giving him a sad look.

“I can’t stand when she calls, it makes me feel guilty for not telling her, or any of them.” Sansa says moving closer to Jon and he wraps his arms around her, pulling her close to him.

“They probably already know San.” Jon says pressing a kiss to her bare clavicle and she nods.

“Yes.” Sansa agrees. “Probably, but I would still prefer them not know that I am having sex with the boy I basically grew up loathing.” Sansa says it with a laugh, but it is true. She hated Jon for a long time. He took attention away from her, and practically ignored her, preferring the company of Robb or Arya, or even her younger brothers. It didn’t help that they basically had nothing in common, well, until they started to fuck.

“I think our bodies never got the whole despising thing.” Jon says with an eyebrow raised. They began this charade a few months before at a party; he told her that he saw her standing there in a green dress with her hair in a loose braid, and he knew he wanted her then and there. They fucked in the bathroom, and again in his bed after they took a cab there. Sansa pretended it didn’t happen, but two days later she was at his doorstep with a bottle of wine and wearing another dress that he would later run his hand up.

“You say our bodies, I say our bodies inability to refrain from alcohol.” Sansa says laughing and Jon shakes his head in response.

“I always wanted this with you. You were just too good for me.” He says. Sansa can’t help but admit this is more than sex; at least it turned out that way. The conversations get longer, and eventually she finds he isn’t the insufferable boy who ate all the food from her parent’s fridge.

“Still am.” She says leaning into kiss him, he responds quickly and pulls her face to his. She loves his beard leaving red marks on her porcelain cheeks. She loves seeing him naked in her bed. She loves talking to him, but she won’t ever disclose it, especially to him or her family.


	16. Sharing a Bed

Jon can’t help but laugh at the situation. He sits at the bottom of the musty bed in a shifty motel in the middle of the night. Jon knows this isn’t a first choice place, but really, this wasn’t a first place situation. He was giving Sansa a ride home from school for winter break and the major roads were closed until morning. Jon laughed at the cliché of that too. He couldn’t believe these things were truly occurring, like a grand cosmic joke.

They didn’t harbor hatred for each other, but then again, there wasn’t much love either. Until recently, Jon didn’t think about her, but after the last few months he finds himself doing it more and more. Sansa emerges from the bathroom, a look of disgust on her face as she towel dries her hair.

“I think I need to shower after that shower.” Sansa says sitting beside of him.

He looks at her, and he knows how abysmal the bathroom truly is, but he can still smell the flowery shampoo coming from her hair.

“I know, this place sucks.” Jon responds sitting on the bed and then sprawling out.

“Understatement of the year.” She says doing to same thing, laying her head on her arm. He can tell she doesn’t want to use the pillows.

“Do you want me to sleep on the floor?” He asks, hoping she won’t say yes. She shakes her head at him, and he breathes a sigh of relief.

“I can’t sleep up here alone.” Sansa whispers. “I don’t know what has occurred on this bed before.”

“ I could probably tell you.” Jon says and Sansa whacks him on the arm.

“Gross,” Sansa says running her fingers through her wet hair, and Jon knows what she is thinking, and he probably was thinking it too, but he won’t let her know that.

“Sleep, Sansa.” Jon says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Oh, well, now I feel like the dirty one.” Sansa says standing up to pull the covers back. She is surprised to see the sheets appear clean and she shrugs, he knows she is too tired to care.

“You are very dirty.” Jon says suggestively, but also teasingly. He sees her face jerk up in surprise at his candidness.

“Just cause we are sharing a bed doesn’t mean there will be any funny business, Jon Snow.” Sansa says placing her hands on her hips.

“I would never assume such a thing.” He lies down on the bed and she joins him with quiet hesitation.

She falls asleep a world away from him, but when he wakes up, he is holding her tight to him. His face is tucked in the crook of her neck, and his arm is slung over her waist. He didn’t know when he got so close to her in the night, but he enjoys the closeness. He can see she has already stirred, and hasn’t pulled away in sheer disdain or aggressive groans escaping her lips. He wonders if it means she likes it too, feeling close to him.


	17. Lady Chatterley's Lover AU

"I’d offer you breakfast Lady Tyrell, but I think I’m too sore to move.“ Jon says it and Sansa feels herself get turned on by just his words and the way they fall from his dirty mouth. He tended to have that effect on her. He uses her title as a flippant jest too. Sansa knows they can’t keep up this way, someone will find out or see them, but keeping her hands off of him is hard, and she learns that with each time they spend the night together.

“You have given me plenty.” She says turning onto her stomach, letting her long hair fall into her worn out face. She left her bare back and ass exposed, and she playfully touched at his hands, wanting his attention. He slides on his pants, and when he looks back to her he sees her lying uncovered and naked, he groans.

“You need to let me rest, love.” Jon says running his hand down the curve of her spine, and then grazing his fingers down the left cheek of her ass.

“I’m not doing anything.” Sansa smiles at him, putting her finger to her lips and biting at it. Jon kinks his left brow and gives her a fanatical expression.

“You know good and well what are you doing?” Jon says peppering kisses on her back and trailing them up to her neck, eliciting a soft moan from Sansa’s lips.

“I only know that two minutes ago you were too sore to make me breakfast.” She says turning over and showing him her full body. She sees him raking his eyes over the tiny peaks of her breasts, the flat of her stomach, and settling on the spot between her legs. He licks his lips. “Now you are ready for round four?”

“No.” Jon says pressing his fingertips into her thighs and pulling them apart. He begins by pressing wet kisses to her center, and then unexpectedly plunges his tongue into her like he’s hungry for her and the way she tastes.

“Who are you?” Sansa breathes out headily, her hands bringing his face closer to her and he grips her thighs. She knows she will have bruises to explain in the morning, but for now all she can think is that this feeling can’t stop.

“Your humble servant, my lady.” Jon says pulling away, licking the remnants of Sansa from his lips. She watches him stare at her for a moment before diving back in for more. She knows this affair could come out eventually, and that someone could scare him away from her. But right now, all she can think about is being on this tatty mattress with him, his face between her thighs, and listening to the way they breathe and moan together.


	18. NYC Christmas

“You’re such a romantic.” Jon says looking over at Sansa. She smiles back and shrugs, taking a small sip from the steaming coffee in her hands. He can’t help but fall in love with Sansa more and more as he watches her fall in love with New York City during Christmas.

“Afraid so, will that interfere with your cynicism, Ebenezer?” Sansa quips. His mouths forms a perfect circle, shock and awe because he forgets how witty she can be.

“Definitely not.” Jon says firmly, leading her to an empty park bench. She sits beside him and he wraps his arms around her to keep her warm. They watch people mindlessly, making inappropriate remarks and occasionally laughing too loudly because they aren’t used to the eclectic people that the city has to offer.

“Let’s move here.” Sansa says pleadingly. “You can write, and I can paint. We can rent a tiny apartment in Bed Stuy.” She stops and Jon gives her a sharp look. “Okay, maybe not Bed Stuy.” She stifles a laugh, and he loves her and her laugh enough to consider it.


	19. The Lightweight

When he heard her scream, Jon knew he had, had too much to drink. He was already a lightweight, and when Theon started making stupid comments about how he couldn’t hold his liquor, Jon was too proud to agree with it. When he went upstairs to lie down, he was looking for the guest room. He didn’t think he’d confuse Sansa’s room with it.

“Jon! What the hell are you doing?” Sansa sat up, wrapping the blanket around her. Jon’s eyes widened.

“Are you naked?” He asked. He wasn’t normally a forward person, especially when it came to Sansa. His best friend’s beautiful younger sister, who he always needed reminding, was off limits.

“No, you perv,” She let the blanket fall and he saw a skintight tank top underneath that didn’t leave much for his imagination. He gulped.

“You are so pretty.” He said smiling, his eyes gleaming. Sansa rolled her eyes and pulled him back into the bed.

“You are so drunk. How much Fireball did Theon give you?” She said laughing, helping Jon take his shoes off and get under the covers. He didn’t know why she was doing this for him, she never gave any indication she even liked him around.

“Enough to climb into your bed, and ask if you were naked.” Jon said with his eyes growing heavier, and before he fell asleep, he felt Sansa settle in beside of him.


	20. Blood of the Dragon

She hadn’t seen Jon in years, and the time apart had given her clarity. The Winterfell she had with her family was a distant memory, and so was he. Sansa never thought she would be given the opportunity to see him again. Outside his tent, she could still imagine him the way he had been. He was a young, morose boy with the desire for something more than being her bastard brother. Maybe he had felt the same about her too; that she was better kept a memory.

“He will see you know, my lady.” The guard said softly, looking at his scuffed boots. She knew he had heard the stories about her. The kind of stories that were untrue and laughable. She had even heard one in which she turned into a wolf on the battlefield, tearing men apart with her bare teeth.

“Thank you.” Sansa said reaching for the tent flap and lifting it. She entered and saw him sitting at his desk by candlelight. She could see that his hair was longer, almost to his shoulders, and his expression went from terse to still when he spotted her. She suddenly felt apprehensive being there, pulling at her sleeves and waiting for him to speak.

“Sansa,” He whispered quietly, so quietly she could barely catch it when he said it. She felt her breathing hitch. Sansa had been Alayne Stone for so long, and now she was known only as the fierce Queen of the North. Hearing someone say Sansa, simply Sansa was enough to soothe her.

“Hello, Jon Snow.” Sansa replied. He gave her the gentlest of smiles, and she had a feeling it was the same for him. He stood from his desk, and walked towards her. He was dressed all in black, a color that suited him from what she had remembered as a child.

“How are you?” He asked. Winter had come, and the cold had frozen everything, making Winterfell even harder to upkeep. She didn’t want to talk about this now. She wanted to talk about this moment.

“The best I’ve been in a while.” Sansa replied. “And you?”

“The same.” Jon paused for a moment to step closer to her. He stroked her cheek, and she felt the warmth coming from his fingertips. Blood of the dragon, she thinks, leaning into his touch. “Especially now.”


	21. Talkin' Dirty

“You want me to what?” Jon said as high pitched, as his deep voice would let him. He was sitting on his bunk in his barracks. When it was possible, he was able to get alone time to talk to Sansa.

“Talk dirty to me, Jon!” Sansa basically yelled it through the phone, and he laughed quietly. He had been away from home for almost seven months, and he had a feeling she was getting just as anxious for their reunion as he was.

“Sansa, I don’t do that.” Jon replied, confounded at her request. He was looking around the area, attempting to make sure none of his friends were around to hear this conversation. They wouldn’t let him hear the end of it.

“Jon Snow.” She said crossly. He knew she was getting mad now, and when she got mad she typically began bringing up the distance and being lonely. He hated how lonely she was. After that though, she brought up the yearning, and he liked hearing about that. “You know I miss you. I miss you and that firm body of yours.”

He swallowed hard, his mouth drier than the desert he had been in for the last seven month. “Oh really?”

“Yes. I miss your warm hands on my body, and the way your lips feel on my neck.” Sansa purred through the phone and he felt himself grow hard at her soft voice. He hated that he wasn’t with her to make this image a reality.

“Sansa, you know I am not any good at this.” He said breathing heavily into the phone, feeling anxious to actually touch her. “You always said I was more of a physical person.”

“Oh, baby, I know you are.” Sansa said saccharine sweet. He could practically taste how sweet through the phone.

“Then tell me what you want from me?” Jon said.

“I want you to tell me that you miss me, that you can’t wait to see me, and how much you wish you were here fucking me.” Sansa added the last bit calmly and Jon groaned a needy groan. He knew he wouldn’t be able to stop thinking of doing that. He was going to be in bed late at night, at work during the day, and anywhere for the rest of the month while he was away from her, thinking about doing that.

“Oh…if you only knew how true that was sweetling.” Jon said biting his lip. He drew blood from all the anticipation.


	22. an 'i love you'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tumblr prompt: Jon tells Sansa the truth

“Why did you do that to me?” Sansa’s strained voice is almost at a scream, wanting answers because he continues to make major decisions in running the castle without her. She looks at him, her blue eyes watering and her bottom lip tucked between her teeth. Jon doesn’t mean to do it, but he’s learned being in the same room with her as often as he has been lately has put him in an emotional predicament that he can’t handle anymore.

The last three moons they have spent little time apart from each other, and after every deep conversation they have his heart has grown more attached in ways they shouldn’t. In the middle of the night his mind wanders while he’s all alone in his bed. It helplessly wanders to the sound of her voice, her small laugh, and the soft hum she’d absentmindedly do when she’d brush her hair at her vanity.

He’s tried so hard to push it all away; the swirling and churning in his stomach letting him know just how consumed he is with his feelings for her. He wants nothing more than to grab her, kiss her, to hold her tight in his arms until everything made sense again. He’s been able to fight off every primal urge, but watching her scream at him with her hands pulling at the ends of her hair makes him wish she were doing that him instead.

“I’m sorry, Sansa.” Jon whispers, clearing his throat and rubbing anxiously at the nape of his neck.

“Why did you do this, Jon?” Sansa asks once again, her body still and stiff as she stands in front of him. He doesn’t want to lie to her, but telling her the truth would alter something already so delicate. 

“I don’t know.” Jon says instead, looking down at the rug that lies in the center of her bedroom.

“Jon,” Sansa inches closer to him and placing her hand on his flushed cheek. She places her other hand underneath his chin, and tilts it up so he’s forced to look her in the eye. Her hand that lifted his chin falls back at her side. “I need you to tell me the truth, we don’t lie to each other, remember? Why did you do it?”

“I…” Jon trails off distracted, too focused on the different colors of blue in her eyes. “I…”

“Just tell me.” Sansa’s angry demeanor from moments before dissipates into a tone that is softer, and much more like her. He’s leaning heavily into her warm touch and closing his eyes as her thumb begins to rub circles on the side of his cheek.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” Jon whispers opening his eyes to look at her. He lifts his hand and places it atop of hers, moving hers to his lips to press a chaste kiss to her palm. She closes her eyes at the contact.

“Try me.”

“I love you.” Jon says, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and instead of staring at her quivering lip, he decides to kiss it.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr: youcancalllmequeenjane.tumblr.com
> 
> I take requests!!!! :)


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